


Safe, Sound

by Rag



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fantasizing, Masturbation, Other, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rag/pseuds/Rag
Summary: from the kinkmeme: Marco's a nice guy, really he is, but there's a part of him that's just...not nice. He loves Jean, really he does, but there's a part of him that loves it when he cries. He loves it when Jean gets hurt and screams in pain. The problem is that he doesn't actually want to bring pain onto Jean himself, so he tries to find different ways to placate the dark inside him while still being the nice person he really is.So he does find a way to make Jean cry and scream, and for a completely different reason other than pain. A win win really.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a ficlet about marco bodt jerking it to fantasizes of his boyfriend in pain. if that bothers you please don't read it
> 
> i've decided to deanon all my torture whump a means of letting u all know what's coming. there will be more. for different fandoms. i don't wanna just start posting this stuff out of the blue
> 
> also because yay sharing is caring and now there's one more torture fic on ao3
> 
> original prompt: http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/13546.html?thread=8997866

Marco checks, one last time, that the showers are empty before dropping his pants. He could jerk off in his bed, like everyone else, but usually Jean hears him and offers a hand and it defeats the purpose entirely. 

Of course, Marco loved having sex with Jean. He loves his face, hands, his ass and cock and mouth and the strangled noises he makes. Especially the noises. And they way he squints up and opens his mouth wide when he comes... Marco pushes it away when they’re together, because it’d be awful for everyone involved if he let it slip, but the way he looks…

Like he’s being chopped to bits. Like he’s watching his family be eaten, like he’s bleeding out slowly with no way to stop it. 

Marco gasps and starts to stroke himself.

Marco knows that, honestly, Jean would probably make different faces in those scenarios. But it’s close, isn’t it? Pleasure and pain look so disturbingly similar, especially on Jean’s face. Marco tells himself that’s why enjoys this so much, why he has to sneak away from the barracks in the dead of night to indulge himself these thoughts.

One particular image has been sticking with him, ever since the last time the group of them left the walls. There was a short moment when Commander Erwin appeared to be crushed. Marco absolutely did not allow himself to think of anything but strategy- who to help, what to slice, where to move. Erwin turned out to be fine, but Jean still came to Marco when they got back. Crying, shaking, devastated. Barely able to get out the words that he almost watched him die.

He barely knew the Commander. What would happen if it were someone closer? Eren? Mikasa? Marco, even?

Now, Marco has time to linger on thoughts. Images of Jean falling to his knees, screaming. Tears mixed with spit on the frozen mask of horror as he watches his loved ones being ripped apart. Marco speeds up.

It’s fucked up, but it’s just a fantasy. He knows he’d never want any of it to happen in real life. He doesn’t completely understand his fucked-up sexuality, but he knows there’s a firm difference between fantasies and permanent harm. But fuck does it get him going to imagine Jean in such agony.

Sometimes he likes to fantasize about Jean in pain. Begging for his life or his limbs, cruelly denied, staring at the various stumps someone has left him. He doesn’t concentrate much on who the other person is, but it’s never him. The thought of hurting Jean with his own hands sickens him.

He doesn’t have much time. People still do come by this late at night. Marco can’t afford to draw it out. He starts playing with his balls, too, leaning his forehead into the dirty tile and shuddering. He interlaces Jean’s imaginary screams with the screams he’d pulled from him the night before, mixed with his name, until he shoots. 

Marco pants for a moment and has to remind himself that Jean’s okay. He doesn’t know why, but he always gets this ridiculous fear at the end, a sudden superstitious confusion that he might be willing these things into existence. He doesn’t know if he enjoys the panic.

He cleans up his mess with toilet paper and flushes it. He straightens out, checks his appearance, and goes back to the bunks. Jean mumbles something when he crawls in next to him, and he wraps his arm around him. 

Safe and sound.


End file.
